


Dragged Away

by QuickSilverFox3



Series: Whumptober 2019 [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hostage Situations, Threats of Violence, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 03:48:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: "Let my Dog go."Surana's voice was cold, the voice of a Commander."Start walking towards us, then we'll let the mutt go."





	Dragged Away

**Author's Note:**

> [ My Tumblr!](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com) Requests are always welcome!

"Easy boy."

Surana's voice was fighting to be calm, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her, straining unconciously against Alastair's grip on her shoulders. Dog whined, ears flat against his skull, still crouched low to the ground. The sharp flash of his teeth still gace the bandit's pause in grabbing him by the heavy collar to better shove the knife against his neck, but at a fierce snarl from the leader, they quickly complied.

Sten growled, the sound mingling with that of the Mabari's, before Surana hissed at him, ears twitching and magic crackling round her staff.

"What do you want?" she demanded, shrugging off Alastair's hand with a harsh jerk of her shoulders, Zevran almost seeming to appear at her side, blades drawn, though whether he would stop her or join her seemed to be uncertain.

"There's a price on your head Warden," the bandit leader leered, breaking off into a hacking laugh, echoed by his group.

"There's always been a price on my head. I'm a popular lady," Surana hissed, tongue as venomous as Zevran's daggers, the metal gleaming strangely in the torchlight as he slipped one into the Warden's back pocket, face an icy mask.

"Oh my lady," another chuckle, the man spitting on the ground wetly, "We know."

"Let me guess," Surana straightened up, a far cry from the curious elf she had been when she first arrived from the Circle, glancing up at Duncan as if checking for approval of her every action, "A trade. Me for my Dog."

"They said you were smart."

Surana growled underneath her breath, a shudder running down her spine as the Bandit Leader leered at her, his grin becoming distorted and sickening.

"Kadan?" Sten asked, readjusting his grip on Asaala, metal gloves soundless.

Surana lowered her face to the ground, drawing in a deep breath.

"Bring my stuff back to me," she whispered to Zevran, fiddling with the golden earring hanging from her ear.

"Always, mi armor," Zevran nodded, grip steady on her staff despite the worry eteched onto his face.

"And the armour too."

"Come on!" Alastair called, waving his hands to prove his point at the heavily armoured bandits but they only smirked, jabbing the knife deeper, Dog whimpering.

"Hold onto this until you come and get me?" Surana said, punctuating her point by hitting Alastair in the chest with her breastplate, tossing the gloves and boots at Sten who caught them nimbly.

"Let my Dog go."

Surana's voice was cold, the voice of a Commander.

"Start walking towards us, then we'll let the mutt go."

"Not a mutt," Surana mumbled, but started walking. Dog slipped free of his bounds and skidded to a halt in front of her before she had reached them, the bandit's arrows knocked and pointed at unprotected skin.

She leant down, almost dwarfed by the huge dog and kissed his face, murmuring something into his ear, before she patted his head and carried on her way.

Surana stared back at her companions, trying to memorise their faces as a cloth bag was lowered over her head, knife blade pressed against her throat, and she was dragged away.


End file.
